The Last of the Star Whales
by Moral Turpentine
Summary: The Order's resident spy is sent to America to test the magical waters and has to bring a certain know-it-all with him. Veryyy OOC, AU-ish. RxR! M for f-bombs!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first attempt at a Harry Potter fic, named after part of an episode of Doctor Who. The plot is sufficiently fucked up. It's an AU story and most likely a lot of OOC. I'm not good at the whole serious, broody, 'go cry, emo kid' story, so there will be a lot of fluff and comic relief, but it does have a legitimate plotline.I'm also not good at the stories that are completely centered around Voldemort's defeat. It'll always be there in the background, but the main focus is Hermione and Snape.**

**Set right before the Golden Trio's Seventh Year. Hermione's character isn't really talked about in depth. Just that she was the resident know-it-all, so I wanted to make my own...she won't be the same as she is in other fics…she really won't be the same. And—as a fair warning—I do tend to get a little f-bomb happy :)**

**Snape never killed Dumbledore. All pretty normal until it veers away from J.K.'s original plot line at the end of the Half-Blood Prince, I'll explain it all. No one has any idea about Snape's being the Half-Blood Prince. I hope you enjoy :) I own nothing but my love for Rowling's characters :)**

"_Try not to have a good time…this is supposed to be educational."_

_ -Charles M. Schulz_

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, a nervous tick that he picked up in his fourth year at Hogwarts. Severus Snape paced the length of his office in six strides, turning a sharp about-face and began the process over again. _What the bloody hell am I going to have to do now?_ He thought with a resigned anger.

Sighing, he glanced at the clock and threw a handful of Floo powder into his fireplace. He was to meet Dumbledore at precisely midnight. The emerald swirling flames engulfed him entirely as he stepped across the hearth.

The headmaster was always a peculiar one. He never really informed anyone of his plans, but still managed to save everyone's asses. To be quite frank, it pissed Snape off. Dumbledore sat at his desk with that blasted twinkling gaze trained on him. Snape scowled and shook his head ever so slightly as he took in the extravagant office around him. Shelves upon shelves of random trinkets covered the walls and Fawkes gave a lyrical squawk at him from his perch.

"But, sir, what does Professor Snape have to do with any of this?" A strong, yet slightly overbearing voice came from a large wing-back chair opposite the headmaster. Hermione Granger sat with her hands folded daintily in her lap and peering at Dumbledore.

Granger was tap dancing on Snape's last good nerve. Always has. He remembered the first time he saw her, looking like a damned chipmunk that stuck a fork in the toaster, doing everything short of standing on her chair to get her waving hand higher in the air. He never realized that he mistook a hunger for knowledge as arrogance. It was a surprise that her head didn't look like a hot air balloon with all of the information that she has pumped into it. Typical Gryffindor.

On top of the arrogance that he perceived from Granger, it was nothing in comparison to his immense distaste for her best friend. The fucking Golden Boy whom could do no wrong. It infuriated Snape to no end that Harry Potter had no caution, no respect, and no regard for the rules that have been placed to protect his own survival.

"Ah, Severus, please take a seat. Miss Granger, it isn't as much what he has to do with your next excursion, but what you have to do with his. Lemon drop?" Hermione and Severus shook their heads in slight disbelief at Dumbledore's offer.

Agitated, Hermione started, "Pardon my rudeness, Professor—"

Snape droned, interrupting her, "What is going on? I'd like to know so that I can return to some much needed sleep." Dumbledore looked amused as he steepled his fingers. This would be entertaining.

Hermione frowned deeply at Snape's interruption. She had always disliked him. He was too harsh and showed too much favoritism of his students. On multiple occasions, he would sabotage her potions or flat out insult her. She never partook in her best friends' ridicule of the Potions master. She may have thought of him as the great stalking bat of the dungeons, but he has proven his willingness to aid the cause, and that was all that mattered.

"As you two know, Voldemort," Snape flinched at the name, rubbing a soothing hand over the alabaster flesh of his left forearm where the Dark Mark was growing fainter, "is forming allegiances all over the world, including the Western Hemisphere. Of course, my first thought was to send you, Severus, alone."

"I have absolutely no qualms with that, Headmaster." Snape drawled, running a hand through his hair, knowing that there would be a catch. He prayed that it wasn't what he thought it would be. At this point, he would get down, kiss Dumbledore's ring and beg him not to do what he thinks he was going to do.

"In America, however, there are not large Wizarding communities as there are here in Europe; they are more widespread and small. You will need to fit in with the Muggle population. Unfortunately, you have been unfamiliar with Muggles for roughly twenty-five years now. This is where Miss Granger comes in. Up until she was eleven, she lived as a Muggle and spends her holidays and most of her summers doing the same. She is the closest we can locate within the Order that we can consider to be a Muggle expert."

"What are you saying, Professor?" Hermione said shakily. Her mind blocked out the looming possibility. She'd simply deny. But she couldn't. She owed it to the Order. She had already pledged herself, full-fledged member or not, to the Order's cause. The Order of the Phoenix was her likely future, being on the brink of all-out war. Voldemort had to be stopped and she would do anything within her power to help.

Dumbledore grinned slightly and continued on, "I fully apologize for what I am about to assign the two of you. I know that it will be hard and grueling, but you both need to keep your tempers," he added warningly.

"Spit it out, Albus!" Snape hissed through clenched teeth, snapping his head up to lock eyes with Dumbledore. His anger at the bush beating barely concealed. Hermione nearly looked taken aback at Snape's outburst. Nearly. To be honest, it wasn't surprising to her that he was cold, demanding, and brash to everyone, not just his students.

"I'm getting there, Severus." Dumbledore smiled serenely. "It is, at my request, of course, that you two spend the remainder of the year in an American town to attempt to sway any wizards that may cross your paths."

Hermione gasped and Snape's fingers turned a frightening color of white as he clamped onto the arms of the chair he was sitting in.

"Buggering hell." Hermione breathed and clapped a hand over her mouth, apologizing profusely for her language which made Snape seethe.

"No, don't apologize, Granger. This is bullshit. Absolute bollocks." Snape snapped at her and her eyes widened.

"And what the hell do you expect us to do, Albus? I'd rather not be on my own with a student for a year. Let alone the demon spawn of Athena. What will I do when she acts like a damn teenager?" Snape sneered. Hermione shrugged at the Athena comment...it was as close to a compliment that she'd ever heard from him.

"In case you haven't noticed, I am a _damn teenager_." Hermione cursed at a professor for the first time in her life and, by gods, it felt amazing to defend herself against a man who made her academic life a living hell since she was in her first year at Hogwarts. She had responded snarkily and sarcastically a myriad of times, but had never directly addressed him snidely.

"Could you both please contain yourselves? There is more to go over. You will be leaving here tomorrow night at seven. Remus has prepared a home for you in Leesburg, Virginia. We have been alerted that there is a high magical concentration there. I trust that the two of you will be able to sway them, and once the job is done, you will be brought back here."

"Professor?" Hermione asked meekly.

"Yes, dear?"

"What is going to be our back story? The last time I heard, smallish towns were particularly invasive into the personal lives of the residents. We can't very well move there as a middle aged man and teenage girl. We couldn't, by any stretch of the word, get by as family. It would look slightly odd to have two people, such as ourselves, randomly turn up out of the blue without any sort of explanation." She reasoned, proud of herself for keeping her voice even.

"There are several things we could consider, but only one makes solid sense. Professor McGonagall and I have brewed a potion that specially alters the aesthetic signs of aging. It is far more common than a life elixir, yet is still difficult to brew. Severus, I expect you know of it?"

"_Aqua Iuventutis. _The Waters of Youth." Snape admitted.

"A potion that only effects the looks. Has no effect whatsoever on life exp—" Hermione was once again cut off by a glare from Snape.

"What is the point of this? What are you getting at?" Snape demanded, looking slightly scarier with each growled word. He was always very intimidating, but now he was simply terrifying. Dumbledore sighed, taking off his glasses, rubbing his eyes tiredly, almost reluctantly.

"We are sending you in as a young married couple from Surrey. It is for the absolute best and, if it wasn't a last resort, we wouldn't attempt this."

The headmaster's last sentence was drowned out by shouted expletives and protests from both the man and young woman seated across from him. He held up a hand and said, very forcefully, "Silence!"

"But, sir, couldn't you send me with Lupin or...or...Fred or George?" Hermione sounded exasperated as she grasped at straws.

"Because they're all incompetent." Snape snapped.

"They're not incompetent!" Hermione argued. Her blood was nearly boiling under her skin. The Weasley twins had been like brothers to her, they had bonded over her summer at Grimmauld Place, and Lupin had always been sweet and understanding to the stress of the situation at hand. All of them clearly better choices than the Slytherin Head of House.

"The reason, Miss Granger, for Professor Snape to go is because we can't leave you alone on a monthly basis by yourself with a werewolf such as Remus, and the Weasleys are barely of age and couldn't do the job as well."

"Then why couldn't you send someone else with him? Anyone else." Hermione pleaded, and if he had not been thinking the same thing, Snape would have been slightly offended.

"We have gone over every possible option. Remus will be staying with you for a week or so to make sure you get settled and comfortable." Dumbledore reasoned—leaving the fact out that Remus was being sent along as a referee—and Hermione argued once again.

"Send Remus with Professor Snape. They can be a gay couple or something. They'd fit in fairly well and—" Hermione was getting fairly frustrated at the interruptions and whipped her head to look at the headmaster.

"What must be done, must be done. There is nothing that can be changed. You both may want to return to your quarters, pack, and say your goodbyes. I apologize, Miss Granger, but you cannot bring your familiar on this trip with you; there are simply too many distractions, especially when an animal is involved. Severus, one last request." Hermione had already stomped from the office in true teenage tantrum fashion when Snape turned, glaring at the headmaster.

"Yes, Albus?" He ground out, looking absolutely livid. The anger in the office was palpable.

"Don't blame her for this. I take all responsibility. If Minerva catches any wind of you being cruel to that girl, I can't assure the future state of your bollocks. Tomorrow around three, come to my office and you will take the potion. Miss Granger looks to be about twenty, so it is our concern for your age because it will, surely, look odd if you remain at your current age. You two can work out what your history will be. She is to be a mentor to you of sorts. She knows how the Muggle world works. You have to trust her. Please protect her. Don't let her go far by herself. Once of age, she will be a substantial weapon to the Order. Keep her safe. I have, myself, had no problem with American wizards, but you are not known to them. They may lash out at you and Miss Granger."

"I will do as I'm ordered." Snape sighed, totally worn.

"Thank you, Severus."

"Don't thank me yet, Albus." And with that, Severus returned to his room in the dungeons to mull over everything he'd just been told.

\o/

"How the hell can they do that?" Ron sounded outraged. "How can they force you to live with that greasy git? It's a ruddy disgrace!" Ron slammed his fist down on the coffee table in the Gryffindor common room.

The trio had returned nearly a month early, August 10, to the school for safety reasons. After the battle at the Ministry two years beforehand, Voldemort and his Death Eaters had backed off substantially and they'd lived the last two years of their lives in relative peace. Even Professor Snape hadn't been summoned in over a year. The Order never wanted to let its guard down, so every precaution was taken, especially when it came to the underage.

Still, though, the adults thought it best to return to Hogwarts under the protection of the teachers. At 12 Grimmauld Place, they had Lupin, Dumbledore, Snape, and a small barrage of Aurors like Tonks and Shacklebolt. So the only people in the school at the moment were the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry, and the teachers who had returned to prepare for the upcoming school year.

After that disaster of a meeting in the Headmaster's office, Hermione returned to Gryffindor Tower and sought out her best friends. They weren't hard to find as they were playing a rousing game of Wizarding Chess. Harry sat, open mouthed as Ron went into a fury.

"I-I h-have t-to. It's f-for the Order." Hermione hiccupped, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. She was nearly glad at her friends' anger because she was fairly run down at that point and she needed someone to carry it on for her.

"But you're only seventeen!" Harry cried. "They're sending you to live with a middle aged man, pretend to be married, all at seventeen? What the hell is Dumbledore thinking?"

"You think I don't know that?" Hermione yelled back incredulously. They were lucky that the room was completely vacated due to the fact that nobody would board the Hogwarts express for another four weeks. "I have to go pack. I'm going to transfigure my robes into some Muggle clothing. McGonagall taught me how. Now I know why she did. Fuck."

Nobody outside her small group of friends knew how much Hermione cursed, but she did it all the time and it really came out around the Weasley boys, mainly Fred and George. Tonight was just too much for her to wrap her prodigious mind around.

"It'll be okay, 'Mione. We'll come and visit over the holidays." The two teenage boys wrapped their arms around their sobbing friend. Hermione never really cried, so they were at a loss as to what to do to comfort her.

"That sounds great." She sat talking to them for a few moments before turning on her heel and trudging up the steps to the girls' dormitories.

A small part of the young girl was excited. She has always been fascinated with the Muggle world. She and Mr. Weasley had had discussion upon discussion about Muggle technology. He nearly had a heart attack from excitement when she showed him a muggle record player up close. It wouldn't work as there was no electricity in the Wizarding world, but her parents had, nevertheless, splurged and bought one for her the previous summer. A really nice one that converted the records to CDs. She had a particular interest in Muggle music. Especially American music. She didn't really care for what they played on Wizarding Wireless; it was a little too psychedelic for her tastes.

The majority of her, however, was screaming in protest. She didn't even like being in the same room as her Potions professor. How was she going to survive a year alone with him? There would surely be bickering, as well as full out fights, hexes, jinxes and insults thrown constantly. When he sneered at her, it was all she could do not to want to punch his slightly overgrown nose into the back of his skull. At least Lupin would be there for a little while. Some sanity while she was getting settled.

Hermione pulled out her trunk and began to pile things into it. Her robes, she transfigured into t-shirts and hooded sweatshirts. Her skirts she changed to comfy, worn blue jeans. She packed them away along with the assortment of colorful socks that she had been given by Dobby the House Elf. Her trunk was near bursting as she shoved her newly transfigured Doc Marten's and flip-flops into it.

Errol, the Weasleys' ancient owl, smashed into her window just as she was getting ready to lie down for the night at four in the morning. She leapt to open the window for the old owl and took the pieces of parchment attached to its leg. Errol promptly collapsed on her window sill. She shrugged and returned to her bed to read the message.

_Hermione,_

_We just wanted to wish you luck on your mission. If you ever need anything, anything at all, floo us and we'll do everything we can. Take care of yourself. You're skin and bones, dear, eat something. If Snape gives you any problems, you tell Dumbledore._

_Be good, _

_Molly and Arthur._

Hermione, exhausted, fell into a dreamless sleep not to be woken until one the following afternoon. She called for Dobby, asking him kindly for some type of food to appease her growling stomach.

"Thank you so much, Dobby." She smiled at him slightly. He threw himself at her after setting down a turkey sandwich and pumpkin juice on her bedside table. "Dobby wishes to go with Miss Hermione to America. Dobby would serve her well." He hugged her and his huge, dinner-plate-esque eyes watered as he looked at her.

"I'm sorry, Dobby. I can't even bring Crookshanks." Hermione patted the House Elf's bald head. "Harry and Ron will need you here."

"Of course, miss. Dobby must return to the kitchens now. Goodbye, miss." With a puff of emerald smoke, Dobby jumped into the fireplace. Hermione picked at her food, gathering the energy to pull on her newly transfigured Muggle clothing and making her way to the Gryffindor common room.

From there, she took her time on the walk to Hagrid's hut. If she must make her goodbyes, she must start ahead of time. Knocking on the door, she heard a loud barking from Fang that would have scared the living hell out of anyone unfamiliar with the boarhound.

"Oi, 'Ermione. I was wonder'n when yeh were comin' teh see me." Hagrid swung the door open with a sad smile, ushering her inside.

Hermione sat in a huge chair and Fang whined, placing his head in her lap, making her laugh. They exchanged pleasantries and had a cup of tea before Hermione had to depart. She wanted some time to herself before dinner that night in the Great Hall.

"I heard wha' they're makin' yeh do an' I wish yeh th' best with it." Hermione was engulfed in a hug and tried to return it with the same force but failed as she could only reach her arms halfway around his waist.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I'm only going to ask one thing of you before I make my leave."

"O' ' is it?"

"Take care of Ron and Harry. They'll need it. I have a feeling that there is going to be a lot in the upcoming year." Hermione looked up at the eight foot tall half giant with wide eyes as she asked him.

"Yeh know tha' I'd do anythin' fer those boys. Be careful, 'Ermione. Be very careful." Hermione hugged Hagrid once more before giving Fang a kiss on the head.

"Bye, Hagrid."

"G'bye, 'Ermione." Hagrid waved at her as she walked down the path, back toward the castle. It was a wonderful August day. Birds flew overhead and the grass was lush and green. Hermione would have liked for the weather to have been as taciturn as her mood.

It was nearing five thirty as she wandered the halls, waiting for dinner to come so she could see her friends. A majority of the paintings greeted her in passing and she had short conversations with some. She was currently having one with a portrait of Marie Antoinette in the hall leading to the dungeons.

"I steel cannot believe zose eestorians said zat I said, 'Let zem eat cake!' Seemply incorrigible!" The portrait ranted with a thick French accent. Hermione giggled.

"Well, in my history class, they said that it was a false claim and that you didn't actually say that. I am very sorry about the misinformation, though, Your Majesty." Hermione laughed again and gave a small, sarcastic bow to the painted royal.

"Such a sweet girl, you are, 'Ermoine Granger." Marie Anoinette grinned wryly as Hermione bade her goodbye and continued down the hall. She glanced at her watch to realize that dinner was about to start that that she'd better hurry if she wanted a seat. It was nearing six.

Hermione bounded up the steps only to collide at full force with a cloaked figure and fall onto her back on the cold stone floor. Her words jumped to her mouth before she could stop them. "Watch where you're fucking going!" She sat up and rubbed her head.

"I guess we're not getting off to a great start." A familiar voice drawled as a pale hand pulled her up by the upper arm.

"Get off of me!" She nearly shouted as she was about halfway off the ground.

"By all means..." The cloaked man once again drawled infuriatingly. He let go of her arm and she hit the ground again. Pain shot through her head when it hit.

She caught a glimpse under the hood of the cloak. It was Snape. Only not so...evil looking. His hair was far longer and not as greasy as it was even last night. The worry and stress lines were gone from his face, but the scowl was, she thought, forever ingrained in his features. His robes hung off of his presumably lanky body and his eyes were like black pools. His face was thinner and he was barely recognizable. His voice wasn't as harsh or quite as deep, yet it was still the silky baritone that was undeniably Snape.

Hermione berated herself for letting a fleeting thought of how he actually looked _good _cross her mind. But, nevertheless, he was incredibly handsome. At some point, she would have to admit to herself that she had always had a sort of schoolgirl crush on him. It had more to do with his voice and the way he carried himself than his actual look alone...but now, she's even rethinking that.

"If you're done staring, Granger," he taunted, "go eat. We leave at seven sharp from Dumbledore's office." He brushed past her and stalked to his office, leaving her there, gobsmacked and staring at him.

o.O

Snape let out a string of curses once in his quarters. Why did he agree to this? He was going end up killing himself before the year is out. The look Hermione gave him was odd, but didn't go unnoticed. She was checking him out. Little Gryffindor princess checking out the bat of the dungeons. He nearly snorted as he left her standing in the hall with her jaw on the floor. He couldn't argue that the young witch had changed dramatically since her first year. Hermione now had long, smooth, dark auburn hair. She was fairly short, but had filled out. She wasn't skinny, but nowhere near fat. Not even close. Her heart-shaped face had soft features and a cute button nose.

He couldn't deny that she was beautiful and a part of him—a part that didn't care about their ages—wanted her. The thought made him feel uncomfortable in his own skin. He wanted to slam his head into the stone wall until he was unconscious.

Before taking the potion, Dumbledore informed him that he would be put back to what he looked like as a twenty year old. Severus hadn't noticed how much he had, in fact, changed over the past seventeen years. After adding up the math, he groaned. He was going to be acting like he was married to a girl who was quite literally less than half his age.

The thought of having to introduce her to anyone as Hermione Snape made him want to sanitize himself because she was only seventeen. He, Severus Snape, thought of himself as a pedophile. Even if it was only acting, even if he didn't look like he was thirty-seven, he would be playing the part of husband to a girl twenty years his junior.

He stood in front of a mirror, poking and prodding at his face. He still couldn't believe it. No wrinkles, no signs of aging whatsoever. It was amazing.

After returning to his quarters, he had packed his entire library into an expanding trunk as well as transfigured the majority of his clothing into Muggle clothing. His thoughts drifted to Hermione. He felt a pang of remorse when he let her fall back to the ground. It really wasn't very nice of him, but when had he ever been 'nice'? He sighed and called to one of the house elves for food. One that happened to be Dobby. The stuttering elf brought him back a covered dish and looked up at the younger Snape.

"What?" He snapped harshly, sitting on the couch across the room from the staring house elf.

"Please take good care of Miss Hermione. Dobby holds her in high regards and would appreciate if Professor Snape would do Dobby such a service." Dobby bowed deeply and was gone in an instant.

^.^

Hermione joined her friends at the long tables in the Great Hall. She was in a slight rush as it was quarter after six and she was supposed to be in Dumbledore's office at seven. She was simply too freaked out to eat anything that night, so she decided to say her goodbyes. Harry pulled her in for an incredibly tight hug and Ron did the same.

"Be careful and floo the common room if you need anything." She parted from them with a kiss on the cheek, hurrying to her room, where she levitated her trunk from Gryffindor Tower and toward the Headmaster's office.

"Sugar Quills." She muttered to the gargoyle that stood guard outside of Dumbledore's office. It stood aside and she was able to start up the steps. On her way up, she fingered the necklace that her parents had given her as an early birthday present before her first year at Hogwarts, nearly seven years ago.

It was like a small silver book with HJG carved on the front. It opened, showing three separate pages. On the first page was her favorite Winston Churchill quote: "History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it." On the second page: "Be true to yourself. Always." And lastly, on the third page: "Only you can set limits, we know you have none." The necklace was her prized possession.

Her mind was made up. If she heard one more word about being careful, she was going to scream. She was told by a total of five people to be careful and to take care of herself. Did they honestly expect her to forget herself? To neglect herself? She sighed as she entered the office.

Hermione was met with a glare from Snape. She gave it back with the same force. Professor McGonagall's lips were set in a tight stitch with a hard look in her eyes. She was just as happy about the plans as Hermione and Snape. The only person who was actually looking forward to the outcome was Dumbledore. His eyes glittered with amusement as he watched the figurative Mexican standoff. He had half a mind that one of them was going to scream "Draw!"

Lupin stood by the fireplace with a sorry look on his face. He was preparing for a week of hell from the two. How, he thought, they expected this to work out in their favor was beyond him. Hermione and Snape were simply too different. She was the bright, happy, full of life Gryffindor. He was the dark, gloomy, sardonic Stlytherin. In several ways, though, they were similar. They were both insufferable know-it-alls, hard headed, had serious hair issues, and severely disliked each other.

Remus also felt a pang of jealousy.

"Hello, you two. I trust that you are ready?" Dumbledore began calmly. A steely look from the student and Potions Master forced him to continue. "There will be ground rules set in place. Once you reach the home, the wards placed around it will strip every charm you've cast on yourself upon entry. You will simply have to recast it to gain the familiarity of the barriers. The potion, Severus, you have taken will remain as it is old and powerful magic.

"Either Minerva or myself will be checking in on you once a week. Most likely the weekend. You are not playing a part just to the Muggles, you are playing a part to all of the surrounding wizards. They are to believe that you are together and that you have nothing to do with the Order. I need you both to assess the climate and keep very specific records.

"It will be expected that one of you at least gets a job. We have set you, Miss Granger, up with a job at the local primary school as a first year teacher. A lot of wizarding families have their young being tutored there, much like you both were. We have falsified all documents including licenses and credentials. I believe that you will be fully capable of teaching students so young. The school is an old one, one that knows of magic and keeps a list of the magical students in its midst.

"That said, we will keep you well lived. You'll receive a weekly stipend of five thousand Muggle American dollars placed into a bank account, which should keep both of you happy. For your first purchases, however, we have the account very well kept, so think of it as some luxury. Here are your new ID's and credit cards," Dumbledore passed them both a small rectangular piece of plastic, "And your rings. I only stress that you keep appearances at all times. The rings have a Protean Charm cast upon them. If you tap one with your wand, the other will grow hot. You can use them to communicate at any time."

"For security purposes, we have had to change both of your names. From what I hear, Severus, you are already accustomed to using the surname of Prince." McGonagall even went as far as to smirk at Snape. Hermione looked on confusedly as Snape glared back forcefully.

Hermione stole a glance at her ID. It was a Virginia state driver's license. Her name gleamed at her with a near mocking glint. Hermione Prince. Seeing her name on the miniscule card, she wanted to scream, cry, and punch something all at once. It said that she was twenty-two. Her previous feeling, coupled with sliding a tiny silver band over the ring finger on her left hand, had left her feeling sick. She glanced at Snape. He was looking a little green, hiding behind a waterfall curtain of raven hair.

"Severus, if you get summoned, you must insist that you are living there to create an image for Voldemort in America under the guise of doing it for the Order, but tell the truth about the potion. The truth will only further cement the lie you're creating. Miss Granger, I ask that you learn some basic healing. He may come back worse than when he left. And, Severus, I would like you to teach her Occlumency. There may be a witch or wizard that isn't so kind as to not enter her mind.

"I wish you both the best of luck and parting words that urge you to keep the cover which you have been given." Dumbledore smiled wistfully as Hermione and Snape approached the hearth. One by one, Hermione, Snape and Lupin leapt through the flames with Lupin leading, yelling "Leesburg!"


	2. Chapter 2

"_I don't know why we are here, but I'm pretty sure it is not to enjoy ourselves."_

_ -Ludwig Wittgenstein_

Soot swirled around Hermione Granger as she struggled not to totally freak out. She hated to travel by Floo. It wasn't aided by her extreme claustrophobia. She tripped over her own feet as she was shot out of a fireplace in a way that would have made Nymphadora Tonks very proud. All that was missing was an umbrella stand.

She made strange noises of distress as she felt shooting pain in her mouth. Remus Lupin looked at her with concern before it hit her. Her teeth. Back in her fourth year, she charmed her teeth not to look like a gerbil's after Malfoy sent her to the hospital wing with forever growing teeth. Her hair was frizzing back up as well, going from the glossy ringlets to a fluffy mess. The Sleekeazy must've also been stripped.

Before the fireplace made a gurgling noise, signaling another arrival, Hermione yanked her hair up into a bun on the top of her head as there was nothing she could do about her teeth at the moment. Snape stepped over the hearth with a hand covering the bottom half of his face, but not before the two others in the room could see. Looks like she wasn't the only one with appearance charms put into good use.

"Where is the bathroom, Lupin?" Snape spat at the werewolf as he chuckled.

"What's the matter? Some pimples getting the all-powerful Professor Snape down?" Hermione joked lightly, not meaning anything by it.

"Oh, look, the bushy haired know-it-all is submitting her opinion. Surprise surprise." Snape drawled, reluctantly pulling his hand away from his face. Up until he was nearing twenty-two, he suffered from slight acne, like many other young adults.

"It's really not that bad. I've seen so much worse." Hermione was only trying to be a little consoling, yet her professor thought that it warranted a harsh snap.

"I wish I could say the same about your teeth." Snape sneered. Hermione let out a slight whimper as she nearly ran from the room.

Remus gave him an indignant look that obviously said, "What the actual fuck?" She hadn't done anything but try and make him feel a little better.

He sighed. "Could you try not to make her cry within the next week? It'd be much appreciated. She's only seventeen and insecure enough without a git like you insulting her constantly. In the off chance that you weren't aware, she doesn't want to be here either."

"Mind your own goddamn business, Fido." Severus ground out, scrubbing his face with his hands. It was nearing the full moon and Lupin found himself growling at the sardonic professor. He found he wasn't quite _himself_ before the moon. He was actually rather embarrassing.

Hermione was pissed. She was pissed at Dumbledore for sending her, she was pissed at Snape for insulting her, and she was pissed at herself for letting him get to her. Once she found a bathroom, she took out her wand and tapped her two front teeth with the tip of the wood and reapplied the Sleekeazy to her unruly curls. They were in smooth, cascading corkscrews in no time.

She set to exploring the house, leaving the two men to whatever it was that they were doing. Beginning outside, she walked her way around the house—scratch that, _mansion_. She was going to be living in a sprawling stone mansion. The place was covered in arched windows and had three stories. It was like a miniature Hogwarts and looked Medieval. She loved it, but it was kind of creepy in its on rights. It had a pointed tower and several Romeo and Juliet style balconies that overlooked the street surrounding.

The home was settled into a fairly rich looking neighborhood on a cul-de-sac. It was huge and slightly secluded from the other homes. A line of trees separated their mansion from another, but it was still in close quarters with a Muggle family.

Hermione nearly squealed when she made her way to the back yard. There was a magnificent, glass-enclosed indoor swimming pool. She did a fist pump as she looked over the enormous yard. There was a hammock nestled near the back and she deemed it a perfect place for reading.

After wandering around the spacious expanse of flowers and grass, she set to the inside of the home. There were so many surprises that came along with this house. There was a study that was simply covered in bookshelves. She would enjoy it there. The kitchen simply stunned her. She planned on cooking many meals just to get good use of the amazing cooking area. On the second and third floors were the bedrooms. There were six total and she had already picked her favorite, but figured that she should give Snape the opportunity to choose his room first.

She reentered the foyer with the will to get the fuck along with this bastard. He was standing, in full teaching robes, arguing with Remus. They didn't even notice her presence. She couldn't hear them squabble, having set a Silencing Charm around them, but she could surely see them. Lupin's cinnamon colored hair fell into his eyes as he yelled exasperatedly at the tall smirking man. Snape seemed to drawl an answer back that infuriated Lupin even further.

She cleared her throat and the two men looked at her expectantly, Remus slightly out of breath. "Professor, which room would you like? I want to move my things in and figured that you should get first pick."

"The farthest one away from yours."Snape's lip curled as he sneered at her. She didn't know why, but the snide jab hurt.

She simply glared and stormed from the room, muttering to herself. "Trying to be cordial...prick...antisocial git...fucking bastard..." A heavy hand clapped over her shoulder and she jumped and slowly turned around.

"What did you call me?" At that moment, he wasn't someone bound to making her life hell for the fun of it. No. He was a very pissed off authority figure. "I'll ask it again. What did you call me?"

"You heard me." She found the Gryffindor courage somewhere inside her, as well as her impertinent recklessness. Her back straightened and she looked him directly in the eye. "At Hogwarts, I'm your student. Not here. I'm your partner. In this matter, we are equals and I will be treated with some kind of respect!" His jaw ticked with anger, but suddenly changed his demeanor.

"You're right. You're not my student right now. You're a mouthy witch who is in need of some kind of lesson." Hermione's eyes widened at his insinuation. She drew a breath to argue, to threaten that if he laid so much as a hand on her that he wouldn't be able to reproduce. Ever. "Calm yourself, Miss Granger. It is far too entertaining to get you riled. You must understand. I would never. Willingly. Touch. You." That statement was spoken with so much venom that it made her flinch like he had slapped her.

"What in Merlin's name is going on back here?!" Lupin cried, entering the hall where they were having a stare down. The lioness and the serpent. The wills equally matched but the coldness...not as much.

This was escalating into a disaster. Hermione simply bypassed them both to the room that housed her trunk. She charmed a fluffy white down comforter onto the four poster bed that stood in the middle of the room before throwing herself onto it. She buried her head under the heavy feather pillows.

_No_, she thought, _I'm not sulking. I won't give him the satis-fucking-faction. I am going to put on my sweats, sit my ass on that couch, have a cup of tea, and read a damn book. _Hermione pulled out a pair of yoga pants and a long sleeve t-shirt that she must have picked up from someone at Grimmauld over the summer. She thought it was George's, but couldn't be sure. It was a red and gold Gryffindor Quidditch shirt that was way too big for Harry or Ron.

After living together for a couple of months every summer for the past two years, everyone's things got mixed up and they thought they had everything once again sorted out, but she was proved wrong when Ron came into the common room one day wearing a fairly snug t-shirt that was obviously hers. He didn't notice as he never really wore Muggle clothing, but she nearly snorted her pumpkin juice through her nose.

Before leaving her room, she grabbed a book, one that happened to be a trashy romance novel (Hermione's greatest weakness). She walked to the living room and plopped herself onto the couch and flipped on the television. She wanted to hug Remus because he knew how much she loved watching TV. If she's lucky, there's a computer here, too. It made her writing so much easier as she doesn't have ink covering half of her face and the entirety of her hands. She'd probably have to teach Snape how to use one. Ugh.

It was a Monday evening around nine at that point and she came across a wrestling match on TV. Even though they lived in England, Hermione and her father both had grown up on wrestling. Her mother always spoke fondly of the time when she was only six months old and sound asleep on her father's chest with the sound of WCW in the background. During her childhood, she often bargained with her mother to stay up so late to watch it, and intended to keep the promise to her father that she would send her children every Monday and Friday to watch it with him.

"What are you watching?" Remus entered the room and sat at the other end of the couch.

"WWF," was her succinct response as she summoned some popcorn, munching happily on it as two men battered each other across the square ring.

Remus was a sweet, slightly tortured soul. He had floppy auburn hair and thoughtful brown eyes. Long story short, he was very good-looking even though he was twice her age. He was another of the men that she'd never admit that she had a slight crush on. What was it with her and older guys? Lockhart, Snape, Remus?

"Who's going at it?" He reached for some popcorn and she relinquished a handful.

"It looks like Matt and Jeff Hardy against Triple H and Sycho Sid. Honestly, Jeff Hardy looks positively ridiculous with that bottled ginger look." She giggled and drew her wand to, once again, summon two mugs of cocoa for them.

"Oh, so you have something against gingers? I would have thought with you being friends with the Weasleys, that you'd be more sensitive. There are so many soulless ginger jokes out there." Remus sighed in mock sadness. "I'm a ginger, Hermione."

Hermione started giggling and responded, half snorting, "Ah, but that's where you're wrong. You just have red hair. The Weasleys are pale, freckled and positively_orange_ haired. I must admit, though, I almost didn't believe that Bill was a Weasley at first. He's too cool and good looking. No offense to Ron or anything."

Remus choked on his hot chocolate and began laughing. "Oh, so should I be singing 'Hermione and Bill, sittin' in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g'?" For the first time in the past two days, she threw her head back and let out a real, happy laugh.

"No, you most certainly will not." She drew her knees to her chest and leaned her chin on them. "He's got a fang for an earring. That's pretty damn awesome."

Many girls her age wouldn't be caught dead watching the fake wrestling that WWF put on, but not Hermione. When she was younger, she was fascinated by the violence. Now...well...to put it easily: What teenage girl doesn't want to watch four, muscly grown men rolling around...sweaty...? Needless to say, she felt a slight twinge in her nether regions.

She trained her expression and focused on the screen, and took a long drink of her cocoa. Remus quirked an eyebrow at her and she knew exactly what he was hinting at. "Mother fucking werewolf senses." Her face flushed and she hid it in her knees, groaning in embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione. I'm used to it." He gave her a sheepish grin and she laughed a little, her face still stained red.

His next words not only caught her off guard, but creeped her out as well. "I know you want me." Hermione squirmed uncomfortably at his words and just wanted to leave. She stood and started toward her room. Sure she thought he was cute, sure, but that was a little much. Or a lot much. She'd never even dream of ever sleeping with him.

"Merlin! Keep it in your fucking pants, Lupin! I can hear your thoughts screaming at me from here! I'm sure Miss Granger would NOT go for fucking you in your werewolf form and I'd appreciate if you'd fucking STOP thinking about it!" Snape cried from the library-slash-study. Hermione's eyes nearly bugged out of her head and she slowly turned to look at Remus as if his previous comment wasn't bad enough. It didn't comfort her that he was thinking about her that way. In fact, it was fairly disappointing.

:D

Severus was slowly levitating books onto shelves from his expanding trunk when Lupin's thoughts infiltrated his mind. He wanted to be Obliviated! It was sickening, the thoughts that he had about that girl. She was so young!

Sometimes, when relaxed, his Ligilimency tended to run wild and he became a sort of mind reader of the people around him. While working with his books or a certain potion, he became as relaxed as he possibly could be. Snape could not help himself from calling the werewolf out on his vulgar thoughts.

He could hear the soft footsteps walking away from the living room and a miniscule clink as Hermione sat her mug into the sink and resumed walking to her bedroom. When she passed the library, she muttered a brief goodnight.

"Night, Professor. Sleep well."

Her voice was odd and it made him stop what he was doing to look up at the girl. She looked absolutely stricken. Stricken with shock, anger, and fear. Her big doe eyes looked to be the size of saucers and she had a tight clasp over her necklace with both hands. He wasn't surprised, really. It was really fucking creepy what Lupin was thinking about her and she couldn't even begin to visualize it. What surprised him was his response:

"Call me Severus, Miss Granger."

"Right." She nodded slowly and continued back the hall and into her bedroom. "Goodnight, Severus." She called quietly from her doorway.

"Go to sleep, Miss Granger." His voice slightly stern and he didn't know why. His feet carried him to the living room, where Lupin sat, eating popcorn and acting like he didn't just mentally scar that poor girl for life.

"As you told me earlier: she's seventeen. Practice what you preach, mutt." He turned on his heel and started to walk away when he was spun around by his shoulder. His nose was met with a solid right hook from the red-haired man.

Snape heard a crunch and his eyes watered, flashing with bright lights. He recovered quickly and commenced tackling Lupin to the ground. Anger consumed his entire being. He knelt with his knee pressed to Lupin's chest and ground out a threat so menacing that Lupin quivered slightly.

"I may be in a younger body now, but trust me," Severus hissed, "I will fucking end you." Snape stood up, adjusting his black trousers and white button down, leaving a stunned Remus Lupin on the floor, looking up at him with a look of disbelief on his red face. The only thing keeping Snape from stomping his boot into the man's face was the knowledge that he couldn't exactly control the wolf at this time of the month.

He turned to see Hermione standing in the doorway, nearly shaking in fear. She was obviously terrified. He stared her in the eye and gently pushed into her mind. He was undeterred as she had no mental blocks in place. Images of him getting hit in the face and blood going everywhere and Lupin being tackled to the ground played on an endless loop in her mind's eye with something behind it. She was well aware that he was in her mind, but she didn't care. She only wanted answers.

Snape prodded the memory forward and nearly gasped in surprise. There were big, tawny paws and a tail. It occurred to him that she had accidentally accessed her Animagus. His silky voice entered her mind. _Did you turn into an animal? Can you do it again?_

_I can try, I think. I don't even remember how it happened._

Hermione drew the anger from the depths of her being and felt an expanding feeling throughout her body. She tried to vocally respond to her professor, but all that came out was a feminine roar. Her big furry ass hit the ground as her legs fell out from under her. He backed up, a look nearly fearful in his face. She, once again, attempted to communicate with him. It just came out as a louder rumble. Snape backed up another step and drew his wand, afraid that she wouldn't be able to control it.

It didn't seem to connect in Hermione's mind that Severus was looking at a massive lioness standing in Hermione's place. "Miss Granger, it seems that you have stumbled upon your Animagus form. I need to ask you to visualize yourself standing here, human, in order to revert back." Hermione focused on his low voice and closed her eyes. She felt a shrinking in her skin and opened her eyes. Snape had a relieved look on his face.

"What was I? What's my Animagus?"

"I wasn't sure how I was going to explain to McGonagall that her star student was stuck as a lion." Snape smirked, getting back to his old self. Hermione realized that his nose was ever more crooked and caked with blood from Lupin's punch.

"Prof—Severus, can I fix your nose? It looks like it's broken...you're covered in blood..." Hermione started hesitantly.

"No. Go to bed, Granger." Severus' voice was steely as he brushed past her, much like he had earlier in the afternoon. Besides Poppy Pomfrey, whose job was to compassionately care for her wards, no one had ever offered to do anything for him. He shuddered as he recalled all the instances when he returned from a summoning to be near dead and having to right himself again.

With a confused look on her face, Hermione returned to her room. The room she had chosen was a large room with a huge fireplace in the corner. It looked like a fucking princess' room. There was a cream color on the walls and a huge four poster bed in the very center. The room itself was very very large and one side had been made into a sitting room with a chaise lounge and two chairs surrounding a coffee table. A very calm and relaxing room.

She had no idea how she had come upon her Animagus. She remembered going to her room and sat on her bed. And that was it. She had looked down and seen claws and freaked out completely. She didn't recall doing anything but trying not to go out and hex Lupin to oblivion. She had centered her breathing and closed her eyes, going into the yoga pose that she used to relieve her anger and stress. The Roaring Lion. She understood that she looked completely stupid, making scary expressions with her mouth, but she really didn't care.

When she was sent to bed, Hermione lay in front of the fire, shifting back and forth from her human to her Animagus forms. She was currently on her back, purring loudly, with her massive paws up in the air like her dog used to do when she was younger.

It had finally sunk in that she was going to be a teacher. Holy shit, she was going to be a teacher in two weeks' time. Hermione gasped and shook her head. She was going to be teaching a room full of small children. How the hell would they expect her to do that? She'd need to do a lot of planning before she'd be prepared.

But first, she wanted to do something that she'd never done before. She felt like she needed a drink. A really fucking strong one. Leaving her room, she tiptoed down the hall and to the kitchen, not wanting to wake anyone. She had it on good authority that the kitchen was fully stocked with anything that someone may want. A fridge of requirement if you will. She visualized a huge bottle of firewhiskey and opened the door to the refrigerator. There sat a bottle of Ogden's best and a shot glass.

Hermione relished the burn that the first shot brought and quickly refilled the glass. One turned into two and two turned into three. When she reached her fifth one, her thought process got a little fuzzy and the world suddenly got a softer look around the edges. Hermione began giggling wildly, snorting, at the situation she was in. To her drunken mind, this was all just a fuckin' riot.

Severus lay in his bed, willing himself to sleep. He just couldn't. No matter how many times he rolled over, changed the air temperature, or punched his pillow, he just couldn't sleep. He didn't know why, but his thoughts kept returning to the underlying rage that he felt at Remus' thoughts of the little Gryffindor. He tried to pass it off as just general anger at anyone who fantasizes about someone that young, but when he thought of him doing it to anyone else, he really didn't care.

The thoughts were crude. Hermione, naked and unwilling, bent over at the waist, screaming for help as she was being taken in the forest by a werewolf. The same werewolf that Severus attempted to save Hermione and her dimwitted friends from several years prior. Dirt covered her face and blood ran down her legs. The images made bile rise in his throat and his stomach roll, as well as anger pulse through his veins. He wanted to go and tear Lupin's throat out. It was that night he decided that he'd do anything within his power to keep her from that fate.

A noise outside his bedroom caught his attention. His mind jumped to the worse-case scenario as he got out of bed just in time to hear a _thunk_ and a few quiet whimpers of pain. Against his normal way of doing things, he opened the door and looked down to see a crumpled Hermione lying in the hall. She was crying and clutching her head. He considered helping her to bed until the stench of firewhiskey wafted its way to his nostrils.

His lip curled as he shut the door and went back to his bed, falling straight to sleep. Stupid teenager.


End file.
